The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #93036   Message #1803150
Posted By: Janie
06-Aug-06 - 11:18 PM
Thread Name: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
'...Oh yes I'm feasting from the mantle of a bountiful supply
for I am dwelling in Beulah Land.'

Choir practice rarely took long. They had all been singing the old hymns their entire lives. They had quickly run through 'Come Thou Fount", "A Few More Years." and "Gospel Ship," They hadn't even used the hymnal for "Beulah Land." Cathy loitered outside the church for a few minutes after practice, chatting with Virgie and Homer. She was hoping Pastor Tidquist would drive up before his wife came out so she could let him know that a new batch would soon be ready. She wondered if Sherry Tidquist knew of her husband's tippling. "Who knows?" she mused, "Sherry may join him." Weren't none of her business, but she opined to herself that Sherry Tidquist could use a good stiff drink every now and then to loosen her up some. Pastor Tidquist pulled up just as Aunt Cathy was getting in her car. With a few cryptic words she passed her message, then headed for home.

As the crow flies Frank's Creek was only 3 or 4 miles from Grizzly Holler, but by road it was a good 15 mile drive. Grizzly Holler branched off near the head of Paint Creek, which ran along the base of the south side of Eskew's Ridge. Frank's Creek ran into Cabin Creek, which was the main creek and holler at the base of the north side of the same ridge.

Cathy took her time on the dark, twisting roads. It wouldn't do to hit a deer. As she drove she made a mental list in preparation for Zeke and the boys arrival on Friday. She needed to make sure she hade enough mason jars washed up. Zeke's boys often brought their young sons with them. She didn't want them up at the still and wondered if she could keep them down by the creek. Maybe they'd enjoy searching for fossils in the creek. It was hard to imagine this high, hilly country at the bottom of a sea, but the many beautiful fossils of shells and fishbones didn't leave much doubt. It was just as hard to imagine a time when these old, worn and rounded mountains had been as towering, as rough and raw, as the Rockies. "Oh! These ancient, mystical hills."